


[Chapter 24]

by OneWhoTurns



Category: Oxenfree (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Bartenders, Biting, Bratting, Dirty Talk, F/M, Flirting, Friends With Benefits, Future Fic, Hair-pulling, Kinda?, Laughter During Sex, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Missing Scene, Necks, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, but only cause one party is unable to NOT, can't help it it's just how i write her, cause she has a fixation, fic of a fic, i don't feel a need to list out the whole smut menu, i mean all four bases are covered here, just give it a read but know it's E for a reason, really this is the smut that was foretold, relatively vanilla but not as vanilla as it could be, sorry dudes it's just porn, this is literally just a sex scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22460416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWhoTurns/pseuds/OneWhoTurns
Summary: The missing reel, the chapter between 23 and 25 inHoly Spirits. (Keeping that fic rated M, cause this is quite E-rated.)Previously: “So if we’re going all-in on this, you better expect it to go until one of us taps out. And— If you tap out right after coming, I will be incredibly unimpressed, and might leave a bad Yelp review on your gym for poor stamina training and lack of ingenuity.” Her head cocks to the side with a grin, forgetting for a second how hard he’s holding on, and the motion tugs at her hair again, eliciting a quick breath and little hum of approval. “God— when are you gonna shut me up, angel?”
Relationships: Alex/Jonas (Oxenfree)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	[Chapter 24]

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Holy Spirits](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562917) by [HammieSlice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HammieSlice/pseuds/HammieSlice), [OneWhoTurns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWhoTurns/pseuds/OneWhoTurns). 



> Aaaanyway, here's the too-E-to-be-M chapter. Wrote it by my lonesome. No, I don't have a smut problem, not at all. 
> 
> If you're just stopping in for the smut, and want the whole mutual pining/medium burn backstory, you can find the whole thing [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562917). Or if you just want some context for the scene you can start from [here (ch23)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562917/chapters/53332111#workskin) (or [here (ch22)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562917/chapters/52814734#workskin), for a fuller context). The clip in the summary is actually the end of [chapter 23](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562917/chapters/53332111#workskin), so, picking up from there…

**CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR**

“I don’t know, I was kind of wondering how deep a hole you’re gonna dig for yourself,” Jonas muses, and his next little tug at her hair has her own fingers flexing in his lap. “Pretty sure that threat counts as _acting a fuckin’ fool_ , Alex.”

“A fool for love?” she suggests, cheekily, and the hook in his smirk makes it clear the current ministrations of her hand are being purposefully ignored rather than unnoticed. 

“Thought this wasn’t about love?” Friends who fuck. 

“What, you’re saying you don’t love me?” She grins mischievously. “Pretty sure you’d _love_ your cock in my mouth.” Subtlety isn’t exactly her forte— mouth open, lips wet. She risks a touch at his fly, but too quickly he shuts her down, his free hand closing around her wrist to pull her hand away.

“Pretty sure you’d love it more,” he observes wryly.

Alex pouts for a second, but it’s mostly for show. “So that’s your thing?” Her captured hand turns in his grasp to trace circles on his forearm. If she really wanted to, she still has a hand free, just resting on his thigh. But he’s said no, and she’s not gonna push it. “Well, if you’re so hot on denying yourself,” she smirks, “you may as well get _me_ off.”

“Not my thing, princess.” 

Brows raise, grinning with exaggerated surprise. “Damn, sounds like I chose the wrong fuck buddy, then.”

“Oh— no, _that_ is _definitely_ my thing.” Despite his wolfish grin, Jonas’s eyes narrow, and it’s like he’s testing something as his grip shifts, pulling her up a little on her knees, bringing her closer, dragging her by a solid grip on her hair. 

It shuts her up for a second, at least, chewing at her lip, looking altogether too pleased. His hand loosens, and Alex is about to say something, to whine or poke fun, but then a finger brushes so lightly down the back of her neck and she fully _shivers_. 

Eyebrows shoot up. Again, that curious touch, repeating the brushing motion again. 

“Less.” Her skin is heating. But this is the honesty bit. Saying what she needs. Not about to make him guess, when this arrangement is about both of them getting what they want.

“Thought you were a glutton?” Jonas murmurs, amused. 

“Thought you liked to tease?” The retort is hardly out of her mouth before the tip of his finger is tickling at the nape of her neck and Alex bites her tongue, that same little shiver shaking her for a fraction of a second. He just raises an eyebrow. “Literally the only time you’ll hear me say less,” she admits with a crooked smile.

“That tracks.” When Alex simply grins in response, he traces up and down the top of her spine again, and she shifts a bit knee to knee. “…You really _do_ like necks, don’t you?”

“Since when do I lie?” 

“Ah yes; honest to a fault.” It’s deadpan, but entertained nonetheless. He releases the grip on her wrist, and his eyes are flicking over her. 

She has to wonder what on earth is going through his head, as fingers curve around her waist. “Damn straight,” she breathes. “And you?” 

“Hm?” 

The hand at her neck combs into her hair, but it’s more of a soothing motion, little circles the same way she does to calm herself down. It certainly seems to be working, her chin nodding forward a bit, body leaning back to press against his hand. “What’s your thing, angel?” she repeats, though her voice has dropped to a murmur. “This is a two-way street. As much as I’d love you to pull my hair and fuck me into oblivion, this surprisingly isn’t just about me.” The teasing is not as sharp as it could be, his touch practically hypnotic. “What do you _like?_ ”

Her eyes have closed, humming happily. She doesn’t catch the moment of hesitation. The attempt at careful thought. The determined light in his eyes. “I like kissing you.”

It’s an answer she might give him shit for at some other point. Instead, she merely pokes fun as she glances at him from under coy lashes. “Weird; I like kissing you, too. We should do it more.”

“Hm.” 

So they do. Soft at first— and it’s not a bad change of pace. But Alex gets impatient. And Jonas’s neck is starting to hurt. So hands are on her waist, and she’s back up on his lap, and his thumbs brush over her bare stomach as she plays with his hair. She tugs at it briefly - his teeth catch on her lip, she grins. There’s a soft grunt of acknowledgement before he’s got a grip on her hair again, mouth sliding down her neck, and she squeaks happily at the change before moaning as he noses the collar of her (well, his) shirt out of the way to sink teeth into her shoulder. 

It’s another _click_ of a switch in her head. That injection of oxytocin. The surge of want that zings through her. “Fuck yes.” His mouth is away from hers again. Which means she’s free to say whatever pops into her head. 

He may regret that. 

Another bite, lighter, this time at the base of her neck, and Alex lets out a sort of mewling whine, shifting in his lap. “Jonas…” He smiles against her skin and she shifts again. “Fuckin' hell, just touch me already.”

There’s a short swift tug at her hair before his hand untangles from it, resting against her back as he pulls away for a second. “What, am I not doing that?” It’s not exactly a smirk, but Alex can sense the faux innocence in his tone. His thumb brushes against her hip again, pointedly, before his mouth is against her once more. 

“You know what I mea- _hnng-_ ” 

Yep. Big hands. 

Admittedly, she hadn’t been expecting that. 

Jonas is grinning, not quite laughing, and she’s jerked forward in his hold, cheek knocking against the side of his head, fingers pressing into his shoulders. “You-” There’s a huff of amused breath that sweeps down her neck. “You’re not wearing underwear.”

It shouldn’t make her blush. She’s not ashamed of it. But his hand is down her shorts and a finger’s already slipped into her (whether intentionally or just ‘cause - well, it’s not like it was difficult, she’s a fuckin’ slip n’ slide at the moment) and she’s grinding against him like it’s instinctual and— well, that was faster than she’d thought, that’s all. “Unless you have a stash of lingerie somewhere that I haven’t been informed of, I didn’t have much of a choice,” she mutters. 

“Not complaining. Just surprised.” His murmured words are quickly muffled as he ducks to nuzzle against her, and before he can ask she’s already pulling away a little, fumbling to strip off her shirt.

She’s immediately grateful for the steadying hand on her back, as his questing mouth closes around a breast and she arches to press up against his lips, tongue brushing sensitive skin and— Again she bucks forward, a whimper sneaking through bitten lips as his teeth tug at a nipple just as another finger slips into her. The sharp pain of his teeth, the steady throbbing _need_ between her legs— “ _Fuck,_ angel,” she’s nearly breathless, arm hooked around his neck and a hand thoughtlessly raking through his hair, chewing at her own lip since she doesn’t want to pull his mouth from her skin. 

She has no idea how Jonas manages it - maybe just reach, ‘cause _big fuckin hands_ \- but somehow he keeps a couple fingers pressed against her back, keeping her steady, even as he does that _thing_ , that teasing touch at the nape of her neck, and Alex very nearly convulses against him. “Fucking _Christ_ — More. Harder.” 

There’s a soft pop as he pulls his mouth away, “Help me,” spoken practically against her skin, making it buzz before his tongue is sliding over her again. 

Yeah, okay, she can do that, hell— yes, definitely— Alex slides a hand down his chest too hurriedly, a finger catching on his waistband, but then she bites in a breath at the sudden loss as he slips his hand out of her shorts, wet fingers closing around her wrist, redirecting her touch to her own body with an approving hum. 

That has no right to be as hot as it is. 

It’s not just the playing with herself part - though shit, that’s pretty hot too - but the decisive way he directed her to do it. The way he somehow made himself this untouchable thing (which, _of course,_ only makes her more curious to get into his pants). But the thing that’s driving her absolutely mad, is the sheer focused attention. That this is about _her_ , whether she likes it or not. _Her_ pleasure. And she certainly knows how to please herself. 

But damn, is he good at helping. 

His fingers are back at work, tiny subtle movements, hitting every sweet spot. Alex has a hand tangled in his hair and one cupping, tugging, teasing her unattended breast. Hips roll back and forth, grinding herself against him, riding his hand. She can’t focus. Too much, too good. Distantly, she’s aware of Jonas’s mouth releasing her tender flesh, and of fingers massaging her scalp. A mess of moans and pants. Then there’s a double hit - the solid yank at the roots of her hair, a tight grip without jarring her, just holding her firmly in place, and that ache as he bites down, the sting and throb and rush of it. Her yelp melts into incoherent moans, that familiar tension seizing at the muscles in her back, her thighs— 

Three is the magic number, apparently, because as soon as his finger curves into her - what with that, and everything else - “ _Fff-ck-_ ” She’s practically choking, writhing against him, before it slams straight into her. She can’t breathe, can’t think, just sheer overwhelming sensation pulling her tight like— she’s like an A-string, plucked and thrumming, tight and singing, and _fuck_ it’s good. 

Jonas stills, even when she knows he could be doubling, tripling down on the sensory overload. He just waits, the occasional little motion inside her, keeping teeth and tongue to himself for a moment, though his breath is hot on her skin. 

Part of her _wants_ that bit more, that shove past her breaking point, something that will promise a splitting headache, but vaguely she’s aware that this night is far from over. She’s not done. Just primed. 

Her hand tightens in his hair, the fingers that had so actively participated in her own undoing sliding under his chin before leaning down to meet his lips. 

“That…” She’s flushed all over. Her forehead rests against his, the slightest sheen of sweat, eyes closed as she breathes for a second. After a moment, her lips twitch into a smile. “Fucking hell.” Fingers fan out to tap against his cheek in a soft but encouraging pat. “Yup. That— good.” A deep breath, heavy sigh, and she kisses him again. She feels his smirk before opening her eyes to see it. 

“ _Good?_ ” The word is an incredulous quotation. 

She smirks right back, moving her hands to his shoulders, and her breath catches as he slips his fingers out of her - and that _motherfucker_ , he waited to do that just to watch how she goes unfocused for a second; he’s grinning at her. Alex practically snorts, rolling her eyes. “Eight out of ten. Room for improvement.” 

Jonas scoffs. “Thought we were gonna be honest?”

Her eyes narrow playfully. “Fine. 8.5,” she amends, teasingly. “But the night is still young.” He hums a sort of agreement, and Alex’s eyelids drop, resting her forehead against his as he starts rubbing soothing circles into her scalp once more. Still-slick fingers grip at her thigh, just holding her there. 

“What about you?” Her words are a soft purr, kissing him again briefly, before shifting in his lap, mouth going to his ear, teeth brushing against his earlobe.

He huffs a short laugh. “Not as young as I used to— ow!” Her annoyed flick at his collarbone earns her another grip in her hair, but Jonas doesn’t pull her away so she just grins, licking at his skin again as her hand flattens and starts a slow path down his chest.

“Not what I meant, dumbass.” It’s spoken wryly, but Alex hasn’t taken her lips from his skin, kissing at his jaw, his neck, the spots he left bruises for her. She doesn’t bite - that seems to be more her thing than his - or at least, not much. Nothing that will mark. Just teasing scrapes of teeth on skin, light suckling kisses that go pink but not red. “I just meant-” her lips hum against his skin as she murmurs, “I got mine…” Her hand slides down to his jeans, and a finger traces the conspicuous bulge there. “…And now…” She palms him through the denim, and she very nearly snickers at the truth of her earlier comment about the aptness of his name. “…What about you?” 

The thing about Alex’s variety of useless talents is that so many involve her hands. She likes hands. His hands are— well, excellent. But her hands are smooth and nimble and confident, and she’s— look, she’s not exactly inexperienced. She has _techniques._

He’s pulled her face back to his, drinking in the self-satisfied twitch to her lips, the little pleased noises bubbling out of her, but _again_ he stops her when she finally goes for his belt. 

“Jesus, Jonas, just let me touch you!” She whines with an exasperated breath of laughter. “How hard is it to—” she cuts herself off with a snort. “Wait, I can _tell_ how _hard_ it is—”

He’s rolling his eyes. “Condoms are in the bedroom, I just don’t want to go get them,” he explains with a flat amusement. “Once we get up I’m gonna want to clean up, and-”

“Oh I can help with that.” Already, she’s grabbed the wrist of the hand that hadn’t stopped hers, the one still holding onto her thigh, pulled it up, and slips the first wet finger into her mouth quickly. Then… she takes her time. It’s not subtle. Not by any means. One at a time Alex sucks each digit between her lips, running her tongue over every inch, taking them deeper than need be, licking at his palm uselessly. It’s not about the fingers. It’s about watching his face as she fellates them, smirking around them and bobbing her head crudely. It’s about the reaction. 

And she’s not disappointed. Sure, he’s well aware of her ploy, and looks to be as entertained by it as she is, but she can see the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest, feel the tightening of his grip on her other hand. That darkly focused gaze. 

“C’mon,” she implores, with that wicked grin. “Let me taste you, angel.” Her voice is a breathy moan, all for show, and he rolls his eyes, but she’s bobbing on his fingers again. 

“…You weren’t kidding about having an oral fixation.”

“Mm-mm,” she hums against his knuckles, tongue rolling against flesh. 

Jonas lets out a long breath. “…Yeah, okay. Fuck it. Let’s get to bed.” 

Alex’s legs are a little bit stiff as she pulls herself up onto her knees and steps back onto the floor, but she shakes them out a bit with a grin. It’s only once he’s pulling himself up that she remembers how absolutely black and blue he is. Right. Right, yeah, injuries. 

Her neck heats up. She’s been pretty demanding for a guy who probably should’ve gone to the hospital last night. Before he can sweep her up - though, damn, she really _does_ love when he does that - she’s already leading the way (half naked and fully confident) back to his bedroom. 

It’s not exactly porn-worthy. He’s slower to follow, and despite his little _snrk_ of laughter at her excited grinning, still grimaces in getting his shirt off once he’s beside the bed. 

Alex shakes her head, wincing even through her smile. “Oh my god, just— I’ll be on top,” she offers with a laugh, patting at the sheets beside her. “God, you poor broken baby,” she mutters with some bit of dark humor. 

His shoes are kicked off (of course he wears shoes around his own house - he’s so fucking _together_ , it’s astonishing), and belt pulled from it’s loops. “Not gonna help me with this?” Jonas teases, even as the job is already done, denim pooling on the floor and leaving him stripped down to his boxer briefs. 

“You’re a big boy, you can handle it yourself.” 

“Thought the point was for _you_ to handle it for me.” He hasn’t taken her invitation to sit on the bed, just stepping up alongside it. “And— Christ. Less of the baby talk?” At least there’s still a thin smile on his lips. Entertained, even if he’s freshly aware of his aches and pains. 

“What, don’t like being called a big boy?” She shifts onto her knees, crawling to the edge of the bed with a smirk. “As much as I disagree with your opinion on teasing nicknames, I will respect your choice not to be called them.” Fingers splay on his thighs, caressing the lines of muscle there before stepping fingers up to trace under the hem of his shorts. “But let it be noted I am not at all opposed to be being addressed in any way you want to talk to me.” 

He’s raising a skeptical eyebrow. “…Yeah, that might be a little weird to get used to.”

Alex shrugs, sits up, lets her hands focus on his torso as she speaks. “It’s a trust thing.” Her gaze flicks between his face and her careful exploration of his skin, avoiding or barely brushing over the worst of his injuries as she goes. “Some stranger calling me a slut is pretty meh. But then in the bedroom—” There’s a blush rising up her neck even as her lips twitch in a smile, voice not quite mocking, “Like— _‘that’s a good slut, take it, let me hear how much you love it’_ -” It’s that dirty-talk-that-isn’t-quite-dirty-talk again. _Dirty theorizing._ “-I mean, yeah.”

“Alex.” 

He gets a hand gripped into her hair, tilting her face up to him, and Alex gets that lazy smirk. “Hm?” It’s a noise way too innocent for her previous topic of conversation. 

“…I’m not going to call you a slut.”

It’s her turn to roll her eyes, though the tightening of his grip makes her draw in a quick excited breath. “Spoilsport,” she mumbles, shooting a grin up at him. 

“ _But_. If you want to be a good girl, and just do what you’ve obviously been wanting to do for ages, I will consider alternatives.”

There’s a spark in her eyes. “Oh, I like that one.” Even though his hand is holding tight to her hair, he’s not actually directing her anywhere, so Alex presses a kiss to his chest, fingers trailing too-light touches over his sides. 

“Hm.” The noise sounds more like a confirmation. Like she’s just verified something he already knew. “I can tell it doesn’t get used often; you’re kind of shit at following directions,” he smirks. 

She loves it. Smiles like the devil she is. “I believe you’re familiar with my favorite two words?” she responds, conversationally. At Jonas’s cocked eyebrow her grin goes sharp: “Make me.”

There’s a huff of laughter, and Alex fully expects - fully anticipates, and is entirely prepared and hoping for - him to direct her mouth to his cock. Except… nope. The hand that had been carefully out of her way, letting her wander over his skin, slips over her shoulder - and with her hair gathered up in his grip there’s nothing in the way of him skimming that teasing touch at the base of her neck. Alex’s lips shut tight over the little squeak as she shivers, fingers tightening where they’ve hooked into the elastic on his hips, jerking forward a bit to bump her nose against his stomach. 

“Yeah… I’m pretty sure I don’t actually have to _make you_ do anything, princess.” 

“…That’s a good one, too,” she mumbles quietly against his skin, happily flushed. 

“…But if I let you do everything you _want_ , you’d probably end up killing me some way or another, so. All things in moderation, I guess.” The way he speaks. He sounds so constantly enthralled and amused, and it’s a tone that just _feels_ _fun_. Being like this with him is _fun._ Being with him at all.

Her skin is still fizzing all over, another brush at the nape of her neck making her hips squirm. 

“Well?”

Lips hooking into that defiant smirk, she licks at the skin of his stomach. “Are you _making_ me? Or are you too soft?”

His whole body jolts in a sharp laugh. “You can’t—” Legitimately, he’s still laughing. “You’re kidding, right?” 

There’s a bit of crooked sincerity to her smile as well. Still playful. “ _Well?_ ” she repeats his earlier question. 

Jonas pulls away a little, a hand passing over his abdomen, snapping at his waistband. “About as far from _soft_ as I can get, Curaçao.” He scratches lightly at her scalp before he releases his hold, sliding his hand to cup her face, thumb brushing at her cheekbone. “But definitely losing patience.”

Shouldn’t have admitted that. She looks wicked again, turning her head to lick at his thumb before he pulls away. “About time.”

He huffs out a laugh. “You know, I think the solution here is to just say you can never touch me, and I’ll just go get off in the bathroom. Mystery dick: you never see it, just know it’s there.”

Alex practically cackles. “That’s so fucking stupid, I love you,” she’s shaking with laughter, but the tension of their little power struggle is broken, so she slips his waistband down and—

“Fuck—” He hisses the word in surprise, his whole body tensing as her lips sink down in one swift motion. 

She pulls her mouth off of him to laugh again. “Oh my god, that was priceless-”

“You’re not done here.” His neck is flushing pink, but there’s still that hooked smile as he gets a hand in her hair again. 

Alex isn’t about to argue. More interested in making him squirm for once. 

She wasn’t joking about an oral fixation. There’s something immensely satisfying about sucking cock. Eating someone out is fun, too, but not in the same way. A cock - be it flesh or false - just has the _girth_. It’s just different. Lips, tongue, throat - and he’s a _mouthful_ , that’s for sure. 

The thing about Alex and sex is… well, she’s _enthusiastic._ Not afraid to get a little messy. In fact, probably is a little too excited about getting messy. And in this case— well, lubrication. Spit’s good for that.

“Shit— wait—” Jonas is pulling out of her mouth quickly, practically panting, and she shoots him a smug smile. 

“Hm?” 

The look he shoots back is something strange. Some combination of amusement, disbelief, and _you motherfucker_. Getting himself under control a bit. Eyes flitting over her face, he snorts. “You’re kinda…”

“Shut up.” Alex smirks, wiping at her mouth. “It’s an aesthetic choice.” She wipes her hands over her stomach, briefly reaching up to tug at a too-hard nipple. 

There’s a few seconds of silence - or, rather, of heavy breathing - and Alex watches his face, the brief glimpses of thought she can only attempt to read. But then he’s looking at the rest of the bed, and she can get _that_ part at least.

“Lay down,” she orders, scooting back. “I wanna ride you.” 

“You— that is incredibly demanding.” Jonas watches her, bemused, as he instead goes for a bedside table.

“I mean, in all honestly, I’d prefer you to be on top, holding me down and fucking me til I scream, but you’re a poor injured puppy and I have to be on top, so—”

“Alex.” He’s giving her a flat look.

“What?”

“A puppy?”

“You don’t like doggy style?” she asks, innocently.

“Fucking Christ.” He rolls his eyes, then muses; “You like being gagged, don’t you?”

“And stop talking?” Alex grins. “Why ever would I?”

“…This feels like reverse psychology,” he grumbles, wryly, wincing again as he settles onto the bed, getting a few pillows to help prop him up at least. 

She really does feel kind of bad for him. Honest. But she’s also _really fucking horny_ right now. And his cock is right there in his hand - glistening and looking _just right_ to drive her absolutely mad - so—

“Nuh-uh—” 

She’s already scrambled out of her shorts, and is straddling one thigh as she reaches for the condom. 

“If you’re implying you wanna have a go bareback—”

“Alex.” He’s holding onto her wrist, and he has that Tone thing again, so she stops. “You’ve been fucking edging me all night,” he points out, ruefully. “If we start now, it’s gonna be over fast.”

“That’s not how—”

“My gym can’t take the bad reviews, okay?” He smirks. “Besides. You accused _me_ of an oral fixation. Gimme my fix.” 

It’s… a little awkward. He’s not far enough down on the bed for her to properly just - y’know - _sit on his face_ , but also maybe that’s not a great idea in case it hurts him. Ideally he’d be positioned a little differently for this, but— well, he’s not moving now, so… In the end Alex is actually blushing a little after their fumbling over mechanics leaves her ass-up in his face, but really, once his hands are kneading her skin, his mouth nipping at her thighs, she really can’t think of much else. Always has been shit at a 69. Too easily distracted by—

“ _Fuck_ , angel, your _hands._ " It’s like he knows that odd sweet spot, thumbs pressing at the mismatched nerve endings that somehow wire her inner thighs straight to her clit. Not to say his mouth isn’t also doing an A+ job, he’s really full marks all around, she’s just more used to male partners that don’t really use all they’ve got. Jonas, though… Jonas uses it all. Even if she’d rather be looking down at him, watching him do it, rather than stuck watching a cock she’s been told not to touch, she’s still pretty impressed. 

It’s kind of obvious that he just _likes_ it. The little hums against her flesh, the slow licks like he’s actively _tasting_ her - it’s hot. But also such a fucking tease. Even once he’s got a thumb inside her, the rest of his fingers stroking against her, he’s taken her kinda-sorta biting fetish to heart, digging teeth against her ass, her thighs, and he hits that sweet spot again just as his thumb angles just right—

“Shit— yes, right there—” She feels the tension in her, trying to maintain, to keep that perfect level of sensation.

But he pulls back. 

Alex whines, a frustrated moan that turns to a squeak as he bites her again. 

“Are we doing this?” 

This?

“Fuck yes,” she breathes, eagerly, and by the time she’s figured out her limbs all over again, gotten into the right position, he’s stroking at a perfectly sheathed cock, and she nearly smirks at the lube that she’s 90% sure she really doesn’t need at the moment, but fuck it, why not, and then—

It’s an inexplicable sound like a groan, or a moan, or maybe a grunt or a whine— whatever it is, it’s the perfect mix of longing and satisfaction, as she settles down onto him. Yeah. Size is definitely a factor. Not too bad, though. Manageable. Kind of just right, ‘cause she’s into it. That good ache. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

Figuring out where to put her hands is the hard part, really. Trying to keep to undamaged areas. Jonas helps out, though. Not just in keeping her upright, since she’s half leaned back with a palm on the bed, her other hand holding on tight to his for the upright side of things, but also his other hand, the thumb pressed across her clit, rocking with the rhythm she’s gradually building. _Hands. Good with his hands._

Her fingers clutch at his hand once she hits her stride; a rolling sort of motion, more about the grind that the thrust, and with a little leverage he’s got just the angle she needs. _Angles. Angels. Holy fucking shit._

Find what works and just keep hitting that button. It’s a tension Alex knows well, the stretch in her thighs, her groin, the hard flex of her lower back— being on top is kind of a pain in the ass at times, when she’s stuck doing the work, but it doesn’t make the orgasms any less valid. Just occasionally more frustrating to reach. Her eyes are shut tight, too focused on maintaining the pressure, and she doesn’t catch the fire lighting in him. 

“Fuck—” She’s just hitting it, that seizing point, that peak, when she’s suddenly tumbling, disoriented, and she’s down on her side and—

Her noises are gibberish. Moaning mewling whines and whimpers as he finally puts in the work and just straight up jackhammers into her (easier on his side, apparently, though they’ll both realize in approximately five minutes that this may have been a huge mistake) — an arm hooked over her shoulder to keep her in place, pressed against him. 

She was already there and he’s just sending her further, faster. Breath freezes in her throat, her whole body stretched to that beautiful breaking point, dimly aware of Jonas’s too-hard breathing in her hair as light bursts behind her eyelids, a killer of too good and _fuck, ow, actually too good, what the fuck Alex start breathing again you’re gonna have a headache_. His breath catches, movements going erratic for half a second, and she’s still coming. Perfect, beautiful, _painful_ pressure scratching that itch from the inside out, and her voice is two octaves too high, a wordless, helpless hum. 

**Author's Note:**

> And then we shall cut [back to the main story,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562917/chapters/54679693) since it'll be less explicit. xD Thanks for stopping over to give it a look, though!  
> -T


End file.
